Suicide
by OnceInaBlueMoon7
Summary: Dave Karofsky can't take it any longer. 'On My Way' spoilers, with the episode being re-written but delving into the depths of his mind.


I should have seen it coming. Everyone was unusually quiet. I couldn't help but think that the noise had died down when I walked in. As I walked to my locker the others began to gather around me. I saw them exchange glances and smirk. I looked round at one of the guys. He covered his chest with his shirt and grinned. I smiled at them, as if it were a joke I was in on.

My smile faded as I saw it. I now knew why the tension in the room was tight. They were all hungry for my reaction. My reaction to the three letters that were painted across my locker in pink letters. F. A. G. Fag. The word twisted uncomfortably in my stomach. My skin burned and I became aware that I was shaking. My throat tightened like a vice and for a moment I thought I was going to throw up. Throw up all of the pent up pain that had been forced to the back of my mind for so long. I turned and pushed myself to walk forwards on wobbly legs past the smirking and taunting boys, the pain in my throat grew and my eyes itched with the first sign of tears.

I faced Nick as I walked away.

"That's terrible," he said, shaking his head. I knew instantly that it was him. He saw me at Breadstix with Kurt and told everyone. Another of the guys wacked his shoulder against mine and I was pushed into the locker with a metallic crash. It was noise I knew all too well: it was the noise that haunted me. It was the noise that I caused when I pushed Kurt into the locker time and time again. And now I know how it felt.

The guys taunted me and sniggered as I walked past. I seethed and would have punched them all if they weren't all twice my size. Instead, my eyes flicked quickly over them all. I was scared, a feeling I loathed. At McKinley, I was the big one. The scary one. The bully. But here I was among the smallest. I was tiny compared to them. The frightened bear cub among full grown alpha-males.

The mask was slipping. It was the mask I'd been wearing for so long it was almost permanent. The mask was slipping as I hurried through the school and I willed myself not to cry. I tried to ignore the looks I got from everyone and even after I'd left the school I still felt everyone's eyes on me. It was if they knew. As if they knew I was different, weird, queer, wrong. I felt as if the letters on my locker were painted on my forehead too.

I slipped into my room and closed the door. I leant against it and tilted my head back. I was safe. I wondered what everyone was saying. I had to know. I opened my laptop and turned it on. As I waited for it to load I thought that maybe it wasn't that bad. Maybe it was only them: a small portion of the guys in my year. They were popular, yes, but didn't make up the whole school. I gripped the edge of the table as I clicked on Facebook.

Dave karofsky.

Steven Pehl. 'Go back in the closet!' 18 likes, 20 comments.

Melissa Buell. '#$%&! Homo #$%&! Homo #$%&! Homo hahaha' 21 likes, 27 comments.

The list continues and I read until my eyes blur over and I can't stand it anymore. I slam the lid of the laptop down. Anger overcomes me and I shove a pile of books to the floor. I sit on my bed and my breath comes in pants. My heart beats quickly but I feel numb. Even my room isn't safe. The taunts still reach me.

I try everything. I pick up CDs and flick through but none appeal to me. I shatter a few of their cases in rage. I sit on my chair and stare out of the window but my eyes blur over. I lie on my bed and stare up at the mobile of planes above my head. I call Kurt. Again and again but he doesn't answer.

I look back up to the planes and think 'Why me?' I'd done everything right. I'd been brought up with planes and cars and was on the football team. So why was I gay? What had I done wrong? My dad had given the mobile to me when I was younger. Planes were one of the things we'd both been interested in. I'd always been close to him and it had really affected me when he'd said I'd changed for the worst last year. He was the reason I turned things around. And now he'd hate me. Disown me even. Because I was – am – gay. I pulled my eyes away and feel sadness clawing at my heart once more.

I was completely alone. Kurt had left me for Blaine, my 'friends' had turned against me, I can't go back to Thurston and I'm sure McKinley won't take me back. Although I could be in the Glee club, apparently I have talent. I wished more than ever that I could have been in the Glee club. Maybe that's why I resisted it so much when they did 'Thriller'. It would have been the place I fitted in. Once they got to know me. The real me.

But it's too late now.

I called Kurt again. I needed to hear his reassuring voice, I was desperate for it. I was telling the truth when I told him I think I love him. He was so perfect, so proud and he was the only one who forgave me for being such a jerk. He didn't answer his phone. I picked myself up, furiously brushed away the tears that were pure evidence that the last mask had fallen. This was me. The queer, scared boy who had nothing to live for.

I have nothing left.

I walked to my walk in wardrobe and selected my best suit. I found my strongest looking belt and looped it around my hands and pulled hard with all of the anger and strength I had. I fell forward onto my bed, tired from releasing the anger. I pulled myself up and looked across to my wardrobe again.

I fastened a tie around my neck, tied the laces of my smartest shoes and buttoned my waistcoat. I slipped the belt around my waist and buckled it with steady fingers. The tears ran down my face and into the collar of my shirt. I looked up at the large beam above the wardrobe and my breath hitched. I carefully stood on the chair I'd placed below it and removed the belt from my waist.

There was no other escape from this hell I'd been in.

I took one last breath and kicked the chair from beneath me.

Everything was dark and silent. It was like being underwater or smothered in a thick blanket. Everything took effort. I couldn't move. Couldn't even twitch an eye or lift a finger. I felt detached to my body. Like it didn't belong to me. I barely knew it was there. It was just me. In the darkness. Nothing else.

A quiet beeping noise reminded me of reality. It pierced through the muffled blackness. The noise got steadily louder and it got easier to hear it. My brain gradually got less lethargic. It was as if I was waking up out of a deep sleep, but I knew I was doing it. I could feel it.

My body became apparent to me. I then knew I was alive. I opened my eyes and quickly shut them again as the light was much too bright. I listened to the beeping. It was my heart beat. The heart beat I'd so badly wanted to silence. And I was so glad I hadn't.

"Can he be cured?" I heard my mum ask the doctor. I took little notice as I had been questioned by a psychiatrist all morning. I don't think I've ever cried in front of another person before but today I was just too tired to hold it in. She asked me lots of questions such as 'is everything okay at home?' or 'is everything alright at school?'. I told her everything. I told her about Kurt and being bullied, about how I'd bottled everything up and showed her the messages on Facebook. Including the new ones that sent me into another fit of sobbing. "Better luck next time." "Try, try again." Apart from Kurt, she was the one person I openly admitted I was gay to.

"Can he be cured?"

"He will make a full recovery. His voice will return to normal in a few days and as long as he is gentle with himself, he'll be fine."

"And his disease?" I looked up at the doctor. He frowned at my mum.

"As far as we know, he doesn't have a disease."

"You said he, you know, liked... boys," she choked up the last words. The doctor still looked confused. "Being...gay," she spat the word. I winced. "Is wrong. Can he be cured?" the doctor took her out of the room. I closed my eyes. Too tired to even shed a tear.

Since I'd woken up, everything became a blur. A blur of questions and tears and people. It shocked me when time froze as I saw Kurt enter my room.

A doctor had just finished questioning my and after he went through the door Kurt stopped it closing completely and came into my room with a bunch of flowers. He was dressed smartly and looked as if someone had died. His face was drawn and his eyes were sad. The expression pained me.

"Can I come in?" he asked in a wavering voice which was higher than normal. I nodded franticly, unable to say or do anything else. I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding as he turned and set the flowers down with the rest on the hospital table.

"The doctors took me off 72-hour watch. I get to go home tomorrow," I said hoarsely. It still hurt to talk. I don't really know why I told him that. Maybe it was to stem the oncoming flow of questions I thought to be coming. Or maybe it was the first thing that came into my head that didn't sound stupid and along the lines of 'I love you, dump Blaine and be with me' which was my first thought when I saw him.

"That's great," Kurt said with a weak smile. We exchanged glances. I'm really happy that you're alive, David." This took me by surprise. I'd heard it from my parents but coming from Kurt it was different. I knew Kurt said it because he chose to, not because he felt he had to. He could have said nothing.

"Me too," I agreed with him. His brow furrowed and his eyes sparkled with tears. He nodded, breathed out deeply and smiled. I watched him look around and move the chair behind him over to my bed. He sat down and looked me straight in the eye.

"I should have returned your calls," he said with a hint of a smile.

"Why would you after the way I treated you." my voice cracked and this time it wasn't because my throat was sore. Kurt broke the eye contact and turned his gaze to his hands.

"It's okay."

"No, it's not okay," I contradicted. "It's like you said on Valentine's Day, I made your life a living hell for months. But-" I stopped to take a deep breath. "When the same thing happened to me, I couldn't even take it for a week." Kurt's face was almost blank. There was only sadness in his eyes and his lips were parted slightly. "My supposed a best friend telling me he never wants to talk to me again, my mum telling me that I have a disease…" Tears rolled down my cheeks and I choked up a sob before continuing. "…And maybe I can be cured." I looked away and sighed, collecting my thoughts. "I don't know what to do," I said to myself more than anything. I kept my eyes down as they went bleary. When I looked back to Kurt he had just dabbed a tear that was tracing down his own cheek. "I can't go back to that school."

"Then go to another school." Kurt said this as if it was so obvious and easy. "I'm not gonna lie to you, it… it isn't gonna be easy. And there'll be some days when… life just sucks." Kurt smiled. "But you're gonna get through this 'cause I'm gonna help you. And so is everyone else who loves you and accepts you for who you are." I smiled. I wondered if I had died and Kurt was my guardian angel. I know that sounds ridiculous but it was how I felt. He'd been there all this time trying to pick up the pieces and put me back together by convincing me to carry on. He always wanted to help me, even when I didn't want it. And he'd basically just told me he loved me.

"And if they can't accept that, then… screw 'em. Right?" Kurt continued. I almost laughed and nodded at him. I agreed thickly.

"This week, um, Mr. Shue had us think about something we're looking forward to in the future. You want to give it a go?"

"I don't know," I said, uncertain. I brought my eyes away. I'd opened up to him so much already, maybe this was going too far.

"Come on. I'll help you. Close your eyes," Kurt closed his eyes and I did so also, letting his calm voice fill my mind. "And imagine what life could be like in ten years. You're sitting in a fantastic office. You're some kind of successful professional. A lawyer, maybe."

"Could I be a sports agent?" I said, smiling again from what may have been the absurdity of it all or the image in my mind.

"Sure," Kurt agreed, with obvious humour tinting his voice.

"You're a big sports agent living in the city of your dreams," I feel my smile grow wider as he speaks and imagine everything. "Because you left Lima and never looked back. Your handsome partner comes to visit you in your office and brings along your son. You're taking the rest of the day off work because you're taking your son to his first football game. You lean over to your partner, and you say..."

"I'm so happy right now." My voice cracked and a tear slipped into my mouth as a spoke. This time I was crying because I was happy. Kurt opened his eyes, he looked surprised and I smiled back at him. His green-grey eyes were full of warmth and I thought that there was no-one else I would, or could, share this moment with.

"You, uh…" I started and faltered. How would I say this? "You said last week you wanted to be friends?" Kurt looked at me expectantly. "I'd like that." Kurt reached over and took my hand.

"Me too," he said. Relief washed over me and I nodded at him, gripping his hand back.

.


End file.
